


Third times the charm?

by Missmadhatter96



Series: Bleach Phone Fic Collection [3]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst?, Character Death, Child Abuse, Hurt No Comfort, Language, Mention of alcohol, Mention of suicide attempts, Sad, aged up character, bad parent isshin, ichigo is majorly depressed, mentally unstable, mention of drugs, mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 09:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21508861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missmadhatter96/pseuds/Missmadhatter96
Summary: One thing goes through Ichigo’s mind on the daily. Why is he still alive?This is dark. Please proceed with caution. Warnings in tags and beginning notes.
Series: Bleach Phone Fic Collection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1513223
Kudos: 72





	Third times the charm?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello *waves* I have warnings for this story. Please do not read if any of the following is triggering:  
> Talk of ending ones life.  
> Mention of past suicide attempts.  
> Alcohol.  
> Brief mention of drugs.  
> Abusive parent/s.  
> Brief mention of blood and gore.  
> I warned you so don’t go yelling at me...
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Oh also, Ichigo didn’t meet Rukia that day at age 15, he has no idea of SS or anything related until about the end of story.

In the dead of night, wind howling with pain and rain like tears falling to the cold earth; one soul planned to take their own life.

This would be his third try in ending his life. Nothing keeping him tethered to this miserable life. He gave up a year ago. The mirror showed someone else. Black eye and blood dripping from his spilt lip, orange hair that lost its shine with pale skin.

Ichigo felt cold every moment of everyday, seeking warmth but could never find it.

19 with a shit job and a shitty excuse for a father, Ichigo wanted it all to stop. He’s just thankful the girls got taken away by his uncle before Isshin could hurt them too.

Why would he stay, you might ask? Cause he deserved to suffer. All the beatings, all the late night yelling of how useless he was. Couldn’t even protect his own mother. Couldn’t protect anyone. He’d stopped fighting back two years ago when his friends abandoned him. Some friends. In his hour of need they all turned their backs, stating he was just an attention seeker.

That night was his first attempt. Didn’t take enough pills.

He didn’t remember the second attempt, only that he woke up in a hospital bed with bandages on both wrists along with padded cuffs on his forearms. Then a doctor coming in and telling him he needed help and yada yada yada.

Isshin got him out of there then berated him for trying to kill himself; it would put a bad mark on his clinic, Ichigo. Don’t you ever think?

But this time...this time he wasn’t going to fail. Isshin was gone at a doctors conference. He was alone.

He felt his face forming a smile. His spilt lip welling up with blood again due to the pull.

He looked down at his hands. Pink scars lining both wrists. He idly watched the bathroom sink filling with ice cold water. His mind blissfully empty.

Or so he thought.

Ichigo won’t be able to hear him yet, but soon. Very soon.

The front door banged open and Ichigo groaned. He unplugged the sink and left the bathroom, finding his father leaning against the hallway wall with a paper bag in his hand. Obviously it was a bottle of some cheap booze he got his hands on despite every liquor store around town knew not to sell to one Kurosaki Isshin.

Ichigo crossed his arms and cocked his hip to the side, “Where’d you steal that from?” He knew he shouldn’t ask. He knew he should just stick to the no talk rule whenever Isshin drank. But seeing the anger blaze in Isshin’s eyes just made him laugh hysterically. Yes, that’s it. Just kill him already. Why drag this on?

Isshin slammed him hard against the wall, most likely cracking the drywall. His big hand choking the life out of him. And all Ichigo did was continue laughing.

Isshin stared in disbelief, watching horrified as his sons eyes changed to that of a hollows black and gold. His once contained reiastu bursting from the teen in black tinged with red.

A fist slammed in his ribs, forcing the air from his lungs, making Isshin stumble backwards.

**“I** **don’t** **think** **so _Oyaji._ Your** **done** **laying** **a** **finger** **on** **us.”** Ichigo’s voice held a distorted echo underneath his own. His hands tensed in claws, nails growing to form sharp black talons.

Isshin shook his head. Seems the past has caught up with him.

“I knew I should have killed you. Guess nows a good a time as any.” Before Isshin could make a move to leave his body, Ichigo was already on him; pining him to the hard floor with a claw around his throat, the sharp nails pricking his skin making blood drip to the floor beneath.

“Not this time.” Ichigo seethed, a hollow growl leaving his lips. He raised his other hand and punched a hole where his heart sat in his chest. The muscle still beating life in his hand before it stilled.

-

“So the first time?” Ichigo asked thin air, he sat leaned foreword with his arms resting on his knees, a cigarette held between his bloodied index and middle fingers, smoke trailing lazily from the stick.

_**“Drugs**_ **_burned_** _**up**_ **_in_ _yer_ _system_ _by_** _**mornin’.”**_

“Second?” He brought the cigarette to his lips and pulled deeply, the nicotine calming his jumbled nerves and thoughts. Apparently he had a hollow Zanpaktou and was a son of a shinigami. He couldn’t hear his name yet but liked the name Shiro so that’s what Ichigo calls him.

**_“_** _ **Instant**_ **regeneration _._** _ **hollow**_ **_perk,_** **_yer a_** _ **Vasto**_ _**Lorde**_.” Like he knew what the hell that was. He could feel Shiro smirk. _**”**_ ** _It_** **_means_** **_yer_** **strong _._** _ **Top of the food chain.”**_

Ichigo grunted, taking another drag. His arm still red and sticky from drying blood. He felt empty. Felt no remorse for killing his father when he knew he should feel something. Yet, there was nothing.

He laid back on the hardwood floor. The ceiling fan on low above him slowly turning, he focused on a blade and watched it. What would he do now? Would these other shinigami come for him? Was his father still associated with them?

What would he do with the body?

He gazed over at the cold body of his father, blood soaked shirt, skin pale, he could see his eye so void of life from where he laid. He returned to watching the fan, still smoking his cigarette.

Birds continued chirping outside. A neighbors dog barked endlessly at the stray cats roaming the streets trying to find cool shade from a hot summers evening and one Kurosaki Ichigo laid alone but not really; next to his fathers corpse.

End?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) kudos is always nice and appreciated! Makes me happy someone liked it enough to leave a kudo:3


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